Time has rolled on, and the gradual influence of its healing power is happily illustrated in the improved condition of our precious _charge_, (for I consider her as a blessing conferred upon her children, henceforward placed peculiarly in their care); and a moment having arrived in which Frederick agreed with me that we might venture to commence our little scheme, we set to work in the beginning of November, just at the time when the change of weather, and the death of faithful Dapple, that sole companion of our _pilgrim's progress_, conspired to prevent the discovery of our plan. Poor Tom Collins and his son, who live not far from the scene of our operations, were necessarily let into the secret, for they were manual contributors to the execution of our project; and had this _not_ been the case, I should have still rewarded the former by a confidence, the _distinguishing_ nature of which he knows how to appreciate, in return for a trait of feeling so unlike one's abstract notion of a _peasant_, and so delicate, that I must tell the anecdote of him, before I proceed with our works at the retreat. One day preparatory to our design, Frederick and I watched an opportunity when mamma was obliged to drive on business to a little town in our neighbourhood, and paid a visit to our favourite spot. We were sitting talking over past, present, and future, when a slight rustling amongst the leaves, announced the approach of some one; and presently poor Tom Collins, on tip-toe, and his finger, in sign of caution, placed upon his lip, stood before us. "Och, then," said he, "its I that am after running to stop your honours from coming down at all, at all, into my misthess's nook. I does be keeping the childer always from this place till the sun does be setting, and then I knows there 'ont be any danger in life of seeing her honour, for becaase she only comes of a morning." "And Tom," answered I, "why are you so uneasy from the fear of seeing mamma?"